Dragonlord
by Sanaryelle
Summary: A story of the time that Ged sailed the Dragon's Run, first met Orm Embar, and was told the truth about the Ring of Erreth Akbe.
1. Prologue

_First of all, my thanks to Idrisien and Asmodeus1389 for their lovely reviews. As to all you lurkers out there who read and don't review, I'm giving you another chance. ;) Here's my touched-up version of what happened when Ged sailed the Dragon's Run. Sir back, relax, and enjoy the ride._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Earthsea sob! . All names, locations... well, everything belongs to the great Ursula Le Guin._

**Prologue**

The sun had just touched the Western horizon, bleeding scarlet light into the waters of the sea. Streaks of wispy cloud were stained vermilion and saffron, a startling contrast to the dark sky above.

Far below the night's first stars, a boat made its solitary way towards a vast chain of islands. The dull crimson sail seemed to melt into the surrounding water that the setting sun had coloured red, but camouflage could not hide any watercraft in this particular stretch of sea.

The man within the boat shaded his keen eyes with a hand. Above the nearest island movement could be seen. Scattered chips of gold were tumbling through the air, catching invisible eddies in the wind's current. On more careful inspection a definite pattern could be seen the waltzing movement. The gold specks flew in ever-widening spirals, in and out, higher and higher, a fountain of beauty and grace. The man's breath caught in his throat as he watched, and his hands trembled on the yew staff that he clutched more for comfort than support. As an eastern breeze gently filled the red sail, the boat and its lone passenger drifted closer and closer to the islands, until finally the man could clearly make out flashing scales, membranous wings, and even clouds of yellow steam that spurted from gaping mouths and nostrils.

A slitted green eye glanced at the tiny red sail far below, and one of the dragons broke from the dance. Beating massive vaned wings, she alighted on an enormous arch of rock that jutted from the side of the first island of the Dragon's Run.

_Ooh, Ged's in trouble… read on to discover our favourite mage's fate._


	2. The Dragon's Run

_Do I have to put a disclaimer on every chapter? Earthsea's not mine, okay?_

_So, here we have Ged meeting his first dragon besides Yevaud – but this one's a chick!_

**The Dragon's Run**

Ged carefully guided his craft towards the first island where the dragon waited, edging around the jagged reefs and shoals. Finally, he brought the Lookfar to a stop not thirty feet from the dragon's perch, keeping a precious stretch of foaming water between them.

"You are bold, youngster," she hissed, red forked tongue flickering lazily like a whip of flame. She spoke the Old Speech, her brassy voice filling his ears with a terrible ringing. "Long have men avoided sailing this far West. Why come you to these waters?"

"I wish to sail the Dragon's Run," the young man replied evenly, careful to avoid her gaze.

The she-dragon raised her tapered head, letting a great "Hah!" escape her mouth in a swirl of smoke and crackling orange flame.

She was really very beautiful, Ged observed. Here in the island's shadow her scales were inky black, showing no trace of the glints of copper brought out in sunlight. Her body arched exquisitely, a dangerous row of dagger-blades bristling along her spine. She swung her tail, the iron spikes scoring great gashes in the ruby waves below. Something about her bat-like wings and slim black body stirred Ged's memory.

"You are a mage, youngster," she whispered. "Do you dream of becoming a Dragonlord?" Scorn was evident in every line of her smooth-scaled body.

Ged chose not to answer the question. His heart was fluttering nervously in his breast, for he knew that he had to tread carefully when speaking with a dragon. They could lie in the Old Speech; he could not.

"If you deem me unworthy of your conversation, why do you speak to me?" he asked, countering her question with another question. Dragons enjoyed riddles, and Ged wanted to keep this one happy.

The she-dragon's lips writhed back into a smirk. "It is very common," she purred, "for cats to play with mice before they eat them." Her thin wings unfurled, rattling menacingly.

At these familiar words Ged's ears pricked. The dragon, for all of her keen sight, did not see the slight smile that flashed for a moment over his grim face.

The dragon grinned even wider, sinister in her beauty. She opened her vast jaws lined with rows of hooked teeth. The man stared down her cavernous throat, face scorched by her breath and the promise of withering fire.

Ged threw all caution to the winds. "I have seen your brood at Pendor!" he shouted to be heard above the ominous rattling of her wings. The she-dragon paused. For a moment, all that could be heard were the foaming waves against rock and beach.

"Why think you that I have a brood at Pendor?" she asked smoothly, folding her wings and settling on the stone arch. "I have no knowledge of any dragon at Pendor besides the Old one."

The wizard smiled openly, the scars on his face showing stark against his coppery skin. "It is true that you have not witnessed the hatching of your eight sons," he stated in a clear voice, "nor the death of six of them at my hands."

The she-dragon stared at him and recognized his staff for the bond of truth that it was. She leapt into the air, and the sudden draft from her flaring wings knocked Ged right off his feet.

"Six sons dead!" she screamed, and Ged, sprawled in the bottom of the boat, had to clap his hands over his ears. He watched, awestruck, as the dragon writhed above the island with unquenchable fury. Flames spurted from her mouth and yellow smoke streamed from flared nostrils. The other dragons ceased their dancing to watch as she spun wildly higher and higher, neck stretched to its fullest extent. Finally, she plunged heavily into the bowels of the island to crawl to the back of a cave and mourn the death of her young.

Night had fallen. Ged stood and carefully rowed his boat into the center of the wide channel known as the Dragon's Run. Bespelling the Lookfar to keep from drifting, the young wizard bedded down at the bottom of the boat.

_So, will the she-dragon bite off Ged's head in maternal revenge? You already know the answer, but read on to see how it unfolds…_


	3. Miril

_Still here? I congratulate you! It gets MUCH better near the end, you'll see. Hang in there!_

_Disclaimer: Earthsea is not mine, I'm just playing around in it for the time being._

**Miril**

The next morning Ged rowed down the center of the channel, deigning not to use a magewind. He saw dragons winging high above him or slithering over the rocks of distant islands, but they did not acknowledge him. They suspected that he had some business with the black she-dragon, and left him alone for the present.

By midday, Ged had passed the twin islands on his right, and two more on his left, and had truly entered the Dragon's Run. As he was lunching on an oaten cake, the she-dragon landed on the southern rock face of the nearest isle and hailed him.

"Approach," she called to him, rasping voice boring into the wizard's head. He obeyed cautiously, again keeping a good length of water between them. He held his staff in his hand, spells of binding and fire ready on his tongue.

The she-dragon lowered her great black head. "Eight sons," she sighed, breath scalding the rock between her taloned forefeet. "Six dead." She glared at the young mage with her haunting emerald gaze that would be death for any man to meet.

"How?" she asked, thrashing her spiked tail.

"Ah!" cried Ged. "So now you would speak to me rather than eat me?"

She turned her scaly head and viciously spat a column of flame into the air. "You are still no Dragonlord," she rumbled, half-opening her bat-like wings.

"Yet I hold information you would have for your own." He had that one power over her. She was quite small for an adult dragoness, and young also. The worms of Pendor had assuredly been her first brood and Ged knew that she- dragons spawned at most once every half-century. She was anxious to know the fate of her offspring, despite her efforts to hide it.

"I will tell you all that I saw and did on Pendor," said the mage, trembling yet composed. "I ask only that you swear not to harm any man ever again."

The dragon snorted, sending twin spurts of fire dangerously close to the Lookfar's prow.

"A harsh price," she grated. "I could seek out the Old One of Pendor myself."

"You will not," Ged said suddenly, standing up tall with a tiny gleam in his eye.

She stared at him, incredulous. "I will not?" she repeated venomously. "How could you, youngster, know what I will and will not do? My whim is my own!" She slashed a set of talons along the rock, trailing sparks as she left great scores in the stone. Ged winced at the sound, but straightened his shoulders.

"You will not," he proclaimed, "because Yevaud is still mad with fury at his defeat, and the sight of you would drive him to kill you. You know this; I know this. I know it as I know your name, Miril."

The moon shone silver and tranquil upon the Dragon's Run. It softly caressed Ged's face as he lay on his back in the Lookfar, staring pensively up at the stars.

The she-dragon Miril had heard out his tale, and bound by her promise she had laid not a claw on him. Ged admitted that he had been lucky that the first dragon he'd encountered this far West had been a weak one. She was young, inexperienced, and easily stirred by passions. He had been able to divulge her name not from books of lore as with the dragon of Pendor, but by that innate art that all mages have to some degree.

The other dragons had left him be, cautious ever since they had seen the she-dragon's grief go unpunished. They expected that he had some mastery over her, and were uneasy. He had seen it as they watched him out of the corners of their deadly eyes. Ged knew that he could not count on their caution for long; soon another dragon would draw near for a taste of human flesh.

_Ged, you lucky dog! I hope you all picked up on the hints I dropped as to Miril's identity. If you did not, go back to "A Wizard of Earthsea" and read the bits describing Yevaud and his children. So, on to the next chapter!_


	4. Encounter

_I do not own Earthsea, etc., etc., etc…_

_All right! Here we actually get to see Ged do some magic!_

**Encounter**

Ged watched the eastern sky transform into a puzzle of gauzy rose-coloured clouds. When the golden orb had at last pulled itself free from the scintillating horizon, he continued on his way to Selidor.

The young wizard stood, feet braced wide, and rowed the Lookfar down the waterway and out into the open sea.

Before leaving for the west he had thoroughly perused the Room of Shelves in the Great House of Roke, gathering all the information he could about famous Dragonlords and dragons. "They do not fight willingly over sea," he had read, sitting at a desk surrounded by dusty scrolls. "Their kinship is with wind and fire."

Knowing this, Ged felt light-headed with relief as he shipped oars and sailed the Lookfar through open water. It therefore came as a great surprise when he heard a deafening voice bellow, "Mage! Still your sails!"

Ged knew better than to ignore the commands of a dragon. He let the magewind die away and turned to face the speaker. He was taken aback to see not one, but two of the vast creatures circling idly above and behind him. These were not weak spontaneous yearlings, either. Ged swallowed, unsure for once of what to say. Instead, he waited patiently for the dragons to speak.

The larger one drifted lower with barely a stir his leathern wings. "What is your destination?" the dragon boomed, greenish smoke billowing from his wicked jaws.

"Selidor," the mage replied, keeping his expression neutral.

The smaller dragon, a thin serpent-like creature with ragged wings, veered around at Ged's answer. "Selidor!" he hissed, black double-tongue darting in and out of his mouth. "He goes to meet his death under Orm Embar's talons."

The larger dragon ignored the serpentine one, and addresses Ged again.

"Are you the mage who outwitted the Dragon of Pendor?" he demanded, slowly circling the Lookfar.

"I am," the wizard said uneasily, trying to keep his tone deferential.

"You bound him from the Archipelago and slew his young?"

"No," the mage replied, "I slew six." He wondered if the dragons had come to exact revenge.

"And the black she-dragon who haunts the Keep of Kalessin— you have mastery over her?"

"Aye, that is me— What is the Keep of Kalessin? Is it that great black tower of rock?"

"Ask no question of us!" the smaller dragon snapped suddenly, fed up with listening to a conversation in which he took no part. Beating his ragged wings, he flew at Ged.

The mage was ready with a spell of binding. Despite his young power, Ged's tendrils of magic were unable to trap the dragon's torn membranous wings. He finally understood the real power of a dragon's sorcery.

Those narrow jaws opened, about to drench his boat with crimson flames, and that was when the wizard lifted his staff to work another spell.

The dragon halted in his dive, not fifty feet from the Lookfar, drawing his body up and arching his wings like a hawk poised in mid-flight. Those slavering chops opened and closed, black tongues slithering over hooked yellow teeth, but no fire came. The reptile choked, rasped, and coughed. Heavy black smoke curled from his throat, and still no fire came. Ged's spell had quenched it.

The dragon looked fearfully at that young, grim-faced man who stood straight and tall in his boat with staff upraised. The serpent could easily have crushed every bone in the mage's body with one sweep of his barbed tail, but he did not. Instead, he whirled about and soared back to the islands, keening dolefully.

_You go, Ged! Whew, that was close – a few more seconds and our favourite mage would have been barbecue. Keep going, guys! Almost there!_


	5. Selidor

_Disclaimer: It's not mine! None of it's mine!_

**Selidor**

The larger dragon had watched the exchange between man and beast without speaking a word. Now he circled slowly lower, gusts from his wingbeats rocking the wizard's boat.

"I see that you are no ordinary mage, young one," he rumbled almost gently. Ged realized with a shock that this monster of glinting scales, criss- crossed with the scars of a hundred battles, was showing him respect.

The dragon's next question took him completely off-guard: "What turns your path towards Selidor?"

"I- I don't know," Ged faltered, stumped by the question. He'd never thought of why he was to sail to that ruined island; he only knew that it was his path.

"The Dragon of Selidor is no fool," the reptile hissed mildly. "Not the oldest, no! But the mightiest. Orm Embar need not hide his name; he fears no power, and does not deceive."

"Orm Embar," Ged muttered under his breath, tasting the unfamiliar syllables on his tongue. "Is he kin to the dragon Orm who slew Erreth-Akbe and was slain by him?"

"Do you fear Orm's descendents?" the dragon purred, a snort of green marsh- smoke spurting from his nostrils.

"I would be a fool not to pay dragons their due respect," the young mage said carefully.

The large battle-scarred dragon clapped his wings, the sound echoing over the sea and making Ged's ears hum. "All things respect Orm Embar!" the dragon thundered, spiralling up and away from the Lookfar and heading back to the Dragon's Run.

In the early clearness of the summer morning, Ged pulled the Lookfar up onto the beach so that she lay gazing inland at the low dunes. Taking his staff in hand, the young mage climbed steadily up the side of the first dune crowned with dusty grass. He looked out over the stretch of undulating sand that gave way to sinuous blue-green lagoons fringed with thick reeds, and further to the golden-brown empty hills that stretched to the end of sight.

No birds or beasts could be seen nor heard, and standing on the grassy crest of that first dune Ged felt very alone. He considered calling for Orm Embar, but immediately decided against it. Selidor was the dragon's land, and the first move would be his by right.

Ged trudged along the peaks of the dunes, keeping the sparkling ocean to his right. Long and far he walked, filling his canteen as he knelt in the sedgegrass beside a lagoon. Once he caught sight of a speckled tern winging its solitary way over the island, but that was all the life that he saw that day.

Before nightfall he returned to check on the beached Lookfar, cast a protective ward over her keel and hull, and build a tiny brush fire in the dell of clean sand behind the outermost dune. He wrapped himself in his travelling cloak, feet crossed at the ankle, and clutched his staff beside him with one hand. As the flames burnt down to smouldering embers, Ged slept.

_Ah, the stage is set for the climactic meeting. Next comes my favourite chapter…_


	6. Orm Embar

_The moment you've all been waiting for; the title says it all._

_Oh, and Earthsea's not mine – didn't I tell you that before?_

**Orm Embar**

Ged was walking through the Imminent Grove at Roke, the sun shining fierce and hot on the nape of his neck. He paused in the clearing and turned his face up to the burning white-hot eye of heaven, letting a dry wind play over his features. Suddenly he was in the Room of Shelves, running between the rows of books and crumbling scrolls. He was being pursued and surrounded by the fiery wind. His chest was burning— his heart was going to explode—

Ged awoke, eyes wide and unseeing. He was panting, skin drenched in sweat from the dream. He closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to slow.

"Only a dream", he repeated silently to himself.

A scalding wind washed over him once more, accompanied by a faint metallic scent— but he was awake.

Ged opened his eyes and immediately sat up, hand convulsively gripping his wizard's staff.

Lounging on the sand before him was a golden giant, head glinting like light made solid, terrible scaly splendour from crown to thorny tail-tip. The drafts of boiling air had been the dragon's breath as he'd watched the sleeper, and now the corners of his mouth curled slightly up. From his previous encounters Ged knew that a dragon's smile was never a good sign, but this one seemed more amused than anything else.

The young man scrambled to his feet, staff held loosely in one hand, and still the dragon didn't even blink. He wondered how long the creature had been watching him sleep and shuddered inwardly at the thought.

"Orm Embar?" he asked shakily, "Lord of Selidor?" The golden dragon nodded his great head once, gaze and expression unwavering. Ged acutely felt the need to be courteous— helped, no doubt, by the impressive rows of yellow- white teeth— and introduced himself.

"I am called Sp— I am Ged." The wizard was not about to hide his true name from one so mighty who freely wore his own true name.

"Ged," the dragon repeated slowly, crimson tongue shaping the name amid a curl of white steam. Orm Embar's slitted green eyes wandered over the young mage, pausing at the scars on his cheek, the staff in his hand, and the chain around his throat. The dragon said no more, so Ged asked respectfully, "How long have you been watching my slumber?"

"I return to my land under the moon," the dragon rumbled, "And I find thee, a stranger upon the beach. Wouldst thou not stay and watch as I have done?"

Ged smiled and relaxed slightly. He stood at ease, leaning upon his staff. The dragon shifted, settling himself more comfortably in the ivory sand and stretching his vast wings as he did so. Ged's breath caught; they must have been ninety feet across, light shining through the membrane and illuminating it in a smoky gold.

"What seeketh thou, Ged?" Orm Embar asked. "For thy spirit hath seen much toil."

The young wizard shrugged simply. "I seek answers. I seek names. I seek to make order out of chaos, for that is a mage's calling."

The dragon's bright green gaze studied him intently once more, and Ged carefully avoided eye contact. When the dragon spoke again, his brassy voice was tinged with irony: "The answer doth lie about thy neck."

Ged's brown hands instantly flew to his throat, and his fingers brushed the chain. Slowly, wondering whether the dragon was jesting or not, he lifted from beneath his tunic a bit of dark metal: the half-circle of a broken ring. "This is what you speak of?" he asked politely, hiding his disbelief; this was nought but a piece of broken jewellery that he kept out of gratitude to an old woman.

"Thou desireth order in the world, and peace." It was a statement, not a question, but Ged nodded at the dragon's words.

He lifted the chain over his head and placed the metal on his palm, studying it. Under the dirt, tarnish, and grime of many years, Ged's sharp eyes caught something he had never seen before. Using the cuff of his woollen tunic, he carefully polished away at the half-ring as the dragon watched patiently.

Finally, the symbols etched into the inner surface could be read: "Pirr... Ges... Anh... Daia..." Ged looked up from his scrutiny, "Four of the runes of power— and half of another."

The dragon lowered his head so that Ged needn't strain his neck and spoke, breath scorching the young man's face.

"That is one half of the Lost Rune, the key to peace. Thou holdeth in thy palm the lost half of the Ring of Erreth-Akbe."

_So it all comes out! Finally, Ged knows what he's been wearing around his neck all this time. Read on; not too far to go now!_


	7. The Dragonlord

_Earthsea belongs to Ursula Le Guin, not me. Although I do wish it did!_

_And now our story starts to come to a close…_

**The Dragonlord**

A small brush fire burned merrily, and Ged sat comfortably beside it, watching Orm Embar. The dragon had just finished telling him about the Ring of Erreth-Akbe, and how one of the halves had been lost long ago.

Ged remained quite silent, remembering the old woman on the island, her frightened grey-bearded brother, and a tiny dress encrusted with seed- pearls. To think that the greatest gift in this age had been given to him by a lady in uncured sealskins on a miserable spit of land!

"So the other half is hidden in the Tombs of Atuan?" he murmured pensively. Orm Embar had said that the great lords and Mages of the Archipelago had given up sending out men to find the Ring of Erreth-Akbe many hundreds of years ago.

"Thou wearest on thy breast the lost half," Orm Embar rumbled, "And the other lieth on the Eastern side of the world."

Ged peered at the dragon. In the evening gloom he was an iron-grey, all golden tints having set with the sun. On an impulse the wizard got up and walked around the sputtering fire to kneel before the Lord of Selidor. "You have told me a great truth," he said fervently. "If by my power I may repay you, seek for me."

Orm Embar got to his feet, shaking sand from his scales. "Thy power is budding quick, and soon will surpass my own," he thundered gently. "If ever I needeth thee, I shall find thee." The dragon said this out of courtesy, but he and Ged both knew how unlikely it would be for the mightiest of dragons to ever ask help of a man.

Orm Embar broke the respectful silence that followed. "When goest thou from my land?"

"In the morning," Ged answered readily. He placed extra branches on the fire, mulling over everything that the dragon had told him over the course of the day.

Orm Embar had not only spoken of Erreth-Akbe; he had told of how the world had been centuries before, how heroes from ages past had carried out famous deeds, how dragons had roamed as far inland as they wished, how old lands had sunk beneath the waters and new ones had emerged from the depths of the seas. Dragons, despite their shadowy double-meanings and twisted phrases, were worth talking to.

"Humans are very amusing," Orm Embar uttered suddenly, and Ged turned his head quickly to look at him. "What do you mean?"

The dragon smiled, a rather frightening image. "Take thyself. Thou hast held the greatest treasure of Earthsea, and thou hadst not known it for what it was." Ged grinned wryly, a quick flash of teeth, and sat back down to study the talisman by the flickering firelight.

"I will go to seek the Bond-Rune, the sign of dominion, and return it to the Archipelago."

The dragon half-unfurled his wings at this pronouncement, arching his back exquisitely with the sinister grace that Ged had come to associate with dragons. "I see much in thy future," he grated, a tiny wisp of flame flickering from between his golden lips.

Ged shook his head, unable to believe that such a magnificent creature would make that pronouncement. "I am naught but a young fool," he said, half to himself.

Orm Embar gave a tiny snort of laughter, steam and sparks swirling from his nostrils and up to the sky. What the dragon said next has been recorded in writing, sung in the Western isles, passed down through generations, and eventually lost from memory:

"Thou art a young fool who outwitted Yevaud of Pendor, tamed dark Miril, and defeated Nortari the serpent.

"Thou art a young fool who hath a courteous tongue, a sharp mind, and a gift for the Old Speech.

"Thou art a young fool who holds half of a ring, the world's greatest treasure, and dares to seek its counterpart.

"Thou art a young fool who unleashed a nameless terror upon all of Earthsea and saw it destroyed."

Ged looked up quickly at these last words, hand twitching unconsciously up to his face to brush his scars. Orm Embar turned his head to gaze straight at the young mage, who lowered his eyes.

"Thou art all of these things," the great dragon declared. "And thou art now a Dragonlord."

_Ged's pretty much set on his path now. If you've read this far, you have my deep admiration, and I hope your efforts were rewarded. Only the Prologue left…_


	8. Epilogue

_How many different ways can I say "I do not own Earthsea"?_

**Epilogue**

There was no sound except for the soft murmur of waves on rock and sand. Ged pushed the Lookfar out into the cerulean ocean, vaulting nimbly over the edge and into the boat. He had woken up that morning and found Orm Embar gone, only a great depression in the sand marking the reality of the dragon's presence.

Muttering under his breath, Ged summoned a wind that filled the dull red sail above his head and made the Lookfar fairly skim over the frothy waves. The lost half of the Ring of Erreth-Akbe hung from the chain about his neck once more.

With a whispered word the magewind shifted direction, turning the prow's gaze due East into the rising sun, and setting a course for Havnor.

**The End**

_And Ged is on his way to new adventures in Atuan! So, what did you think of the story? If you took the time to read this, I'd love a review. Go on; just push that little button in the bottom-left corner. It only takes a second, and it'll make me happy!_


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